


5 Times Harry Tried to Propose (and The Time He Gets it Right)

by carpemermaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Bisexual Harry Potter, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Getting Together, HP: EWE, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Married af, Mild Angst, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, Schmoop, Slow Burn, Switching, but only because they're oblivious idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:11:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6596197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5+1 marriage proposals Harry makes to Draco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times Harry Tried to Propose (and The Time He Gets it Right)

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own!

It took them a long time to get together - between the time when they went from Potter and Malfoy to Harry and Draco to each other - and an even longer time to finally make honest men out of each other. It started tentatively when Harry testified for Draco and his mother after the war. Directly after the trial Harry walked up to Draco and offered his wand back to him sheepishly. Harry had offered his hand to shake and from there they’d begun over again with a fresh start.

 

Harry was surprised when Draco showed up at Hogwarts over the summer to help the efforts to repair and restore it. Harry laughed when Draco nodded once to him and then dragged a reluctant Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini with him to see McGonagall to find out where they could be of assistance. Harry often found Draco alone after a long day of grueling repairs and they would sit and talk together as the sun faded behind the trees until the stars came out. They started off with light discussions and polite conversations and slowly, so slowly, they navigated through dark waters and heavier conversations about their lives growing up and the war. Harry had come to learn that Draco was wildly clever and quite funny when he wasn’t trying to be a right bastard. Harry also found that Draco could still be a right bastard, and yet he still couldn’t fault him for it. It comforted him to know that even though they were getting to know each other and growing in the world post-Voldemort, there were still parts of them that would remain the same. By the time the summer was over and Hogwarts was as good as new again they parted ways as friends and moved onto the next stage of their lives.

 

They made it a point to go out for a pub night every other Friday of the week. Harry would come bustling into the pub with Ron and Hermione after a week of Auror training courses and his eyes would light up when he spotted Draco and his own friends at their booth. Harry would recount all of the courses and training tasks he was being put through at Auror training and Draco would tease him about his hero complex with pink-tinged cheeks and bright eyes. When Harry laughed at one of Draco’s jokes about the barristers he was interning for at the Ministry his eyes would crinkle and he’d catch Draco around the shoulders. His arm would linger there, without his conscious decision, and the conversation would carry on into the night until the pub would close. On some nights, when one or the other had had too much to drink, they’d stumble out into the street and walk along, arms wrapped around each other’s waists and leaning into each other for support. Draco would lean his head down into the crook of Harry’s neck and Harry’s fingers would trail idly along the length of his side. They both made it home, to their own beds, eventually.

 

Shortly after Harry became an official Auror just before the spring turned into summer he also cottoned on to his sexuality and that he was just as pleased with cock and arse as he was with fanny and tits. He didn’t spend much time fretting over it, he simply went about as he always had – going to pub nights with his group of friends from Gryffindor and Slytherin and working and when he did meet someone that struck his fancy, usually someone with blond hair and sharp features, he’d take them out for a few dates.

 

The one that had lasted the longest had been a bloke named Michael Baddock. They’d met just after the holidays at a Quidditch match for the Magpies against the Falcons and they’d hit it off straight away, and they’d quickly fallen into bed together. Whether Harry was with anyone or not, he still never missed a pub night and he always sat next to Draco. When Harry had brought Michael round to pub night he’d gone about it like any other pub night, laughing with Draco and being overly touchy without noticing it. Draco had seemed more tense and not as relaxed as he normally would have been, and he’d physically switched seats with Blaise when Harry had kissed Michael after bringing back a fresh round of drinks.

 

Michael was jealous of Draco when they’d all be together and Harry assured him there was nothing to worry about, but Harry and Draco’s friendship only continued to become a sore point in their relationship and when it ended six months later with Michael leaving him he went straight to Draco to mope over it. Draco was unsympathetic, told him to _stop whinging like a lovesick crup_ , and took him out to a club to get drunk and pull for the night. They didn’t go home with each other, but Harry didn’t miss that Draco had wrapped himself around a man that had dark messy hair and was a similar build to his own in a dark corner. Harry saw the dark haired man deftly opening Draco’s shirt and exposing flashes of his skin, rolling their hips together in time with the pounding base of the music, before Draco was on the man and pulling him further into the shadows. For the first time since their friendship had started Harry felt a tight coil of jealousy and possessiveness burn in his stomach. He’d clenched his fists and proceeded to get completely out of his mind drunk. If the bloke that he pulled and took back to his dark flat to fuck Harry into his mattress bore a close enough resemblance to Draco, he didn’t linger on it. He only focused on the pressure welling up in his balls and tried not to pretend it was Draco or Michael squeezing his hips and pounding into him and fisting his cock in time until he came with a hoarse cry.

 

When autumn turned into winter and the holidays arrived that year they exchanged a round of presents with their friends over their annual special pub night the week before Christmas. Draco had gotten Harry a very nice cable knit jumper that was soft to the touch and very warm. Harry watched in eager anticipation as Draco opened the wrappings of his gift from Harry and was delighted to see the way a fond smile tugged at Draco’s lips as he held up the expensive first edition magical theory text to examine the spine carefully. Harry watched as his fingers delicately traced along the leather binding and couldn’t take his eyes off of the way Draco eyed the book lovingly. For a moment Harry wished to be that book.

 

Some nights they’d show up on each other’s doorsteps with take away and they’d curl up on cushions by the fireplace together. After these nights became a more and more frequent thing Harry realized that he was going to Draco’s or Draco was coming to his place four out of seven nights a week, not including pub nights. He wasn’t complaining at all. Sometimes, on these take away nights, when Harry was exhausted from field work or hours spent writing reports for his cases, he’d doze off and when he woke up he’d find himself on a transfigured and enlarged couch with a blanket covering him, whether he was in his own flat or at Draco’s.

 

On those mornings Draco would lean over the back of the couch-turned-bed and wordlessly hand him a steaming mug of coffee and the Quidditch section of the Daily Prophet. Draco would sit in the armchair with a cup of tea and the gossip pages that Harry knew he read hidden behind the finance section.

 

On one such morning Harry found himself waking in his own flat, the smell of coffee drawing him out of that warm place between dreams and coherent consciousness, on his couch transfigured into a fine antique day bed. He could hear Draco humming to himself in the kitchen and Harry stretched with a warm smile on his face at the picture in his head of Draco, perfectly pressed and put together as he always was in the mornings, fixing him a coffee and separating out the pages of the Prophet for each of them. It made Harry deliriously happy that Draco would always stay, making sure Harry was comfortable without disturbing him and finding his way to the guest bed. He wanted to wake up like that every morning. He wanted to wake up like that every morning with Draco in his own bed and he wanted to kiss him in the morning. Well, he wanted to kiss him at any time of day, really. And so, so much more.

 

Harry was drawn out of his pleasant, groggy daydreams by the sudden appearance of a mug of coffee and Draco’s face leaning over him from behind the couch. He grinned and reached out to accept the mug.

 

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Your coffee and your Quidditch section,” Draco said wryly as he handed over the paper and lingered for a moment. Harry grinned wider and couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth if he’d tried.

 

“Marry me,” he said fondly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile.

 

Draco stared down at him, speechless, his eyebrows creeping high onto his forehead. His emotions were in his eyes for all of three seconds before he blinked once and then he sneered down at Harry.

 

“Honestly, Potter, I can’t deal with your crazy ramblings this early in the morning. I’ve got to be at the Ministry this morning for court,” he said in a crabby huff. He placed his teacup on the coffee table with a hard clink and dropped the Prophet pages that he’d still been carrying, the society gossip pages face up in the messy pile.

 

Harry was quickly sitting up, trying to detangle himself from the thick blanket and simultaneously put down his coffee cup. He ended up sloshing coffee over the edge of the mug and burning himself. He let out a pained hiss and a muttered curse. When he looked up again he opened his mouth to speak, but Draco only gave him one quelling look and then he was gone in a flash of green from the Floo.

 

Harry deflated back against the couch and a thought occurred to him. He and Draco weren’t even a couple, he was just sort of in love with him and had grown so close and comfortable with him that he forgot that they weren’t really together, even when they spent the night at each other’s flats. He thought maybe it was time he asked him out.

 

When Harry asked Draco out to dinner the following week he’d shown up in the nicest jumper he owned, one that Draco had bought for him, and had opted for wool trousers and dragon-hide boots rather than his usual denims and trainers. Draco answered the door, gave Harry a once over, and again Harry saw that unnamed emotion clear as day in Draco’s eyes before Draco was snorting and asking him just what the hell he thought he was doing. When Harry, confused at why asking him out for dinner hadn’t been a clear enough intent, stuttered out haltingly that he’d meant for this to be a date Draco went silent for long moments before gripping the doorway tightly and quietly agreeing.

 

It had started off stilted and awkward, much like the beginning of their friendship – fragile and so delicate – but after they made their way through a bottle of wine and the first course and Harry realized that it was just _Draco_ and that it was the same thing they always did, just outside of either of their flats, he relaxed and it seemed to help Draco relax enough for their conversation to flow much more easily. Harry warmed when he met Draco’s now-familiar warm smiles and found Draco’s eyes lingering on him. Harry’d had the time of his life and at the end of the night he’d chastely kissed Draco goodnight. Draco caught his hand as he was leaving and murmured into the quiet of the hallway about a _next time_. Harry felt like his answering grin could light up the whole building and offered to take him out again the following night, and that it was Draco’s pick for what they did.

 

Their dates continued that way, every night for a week – always ending with a shy kiss, until finally on Friday it was a pub night and when they arrived together, hand in hand, their friends gave them both one look and all groaned, “ _Finally!”_ in unison and echoing grumbles of “ _Bloody oblivious idiots.”_ and “ _Glad you’ve finally come to your senses!_ ”. Harry looked over at Draco, who was looking at him with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and Harry fell a little bit more in love with him. _Marry me,_ he thought silently.

 

*******

 

The second time it happened they’d been officially a couple for just over a year, and they had just started to look for a flat together, since they both already spent all of their spare time at each other’s flats as it was. Draco was trying to talk him into a charming townhouse in Chelsea, while Harry had been trying to talk him into a large flat in Islington.

 

Their flat hunting had to be put on hold when Harry caught a case on an illegal potions smuggling ring that wanted to offer up pre-packaged Polyjuice Potions to the highest bidders. Harry would stay up late in Draco’s study or at his own coffee table with his case notes spread out before him. Draco would always lean over him from behind and rub his shoulders to ease the tension there, which Harry was grateful for. Sometimes Draco brought him coffee and warned him not to stay up too late. Other times Draco would put a hand over his and lace their fingers together. He would pull Harry to bed with him with a sultry look that always meant he was about to have a mind-blowing orgasm. Harry’s favorite smile of Draco’s, the warm fond one that tugged at the corners of his lips, would flit across his face right before he swallowed Harry’s cock down his throat expertly until his nose was buried in the dark thatch of curls at the base and Harry would make a desperate keening sound and run his fingers through Draco’s hair, riding the waves of passion as Draco’s talented mouth tantalized him until he came undone, boneless and sated.

 

Just as Harry caught a break in the case and figured out that the missing persons and Obliviation cases tied in with the smuggling ring, Draco and he were kidnapped by the potioneers. Harry panicked at the sight of Draco with a gash on the side of his head from where the kidnappers had smacked it against the cobblestone of the street they’d been walking down on their way home from dinner. Draco’s eyes were heavy lidded and he was out of it. Harry knew he probably had a concussion.

 

“Anytime you want to do that saving people thing you do, Potter, that would be great,” Draco said with a wince when he tenderly touched his fingers to his bloody temple. Harry huffed out a short laugh and was brought back to himself and his Auror instincts.

 

“Well, I was just giving you a chance to give it a go for yourself for once, see if you’d like to try it on for size,” he joked wryly while he formulated a plan for escape.

 

His plan went to shit.

 

In the middle of making their daring escape the criminal potioneers found them and cornered them in a corridor of their base of operations with hexes and curses flying. Draco was behind Harry, one hand clutched in the back of his ripped jumper, and the other trying to cover his head from flying debris of wayward curses. Harry had one arm out to protect Draco and was flinging counter curses back at the attackers with a stolen wand.

 

“Harry!” Draco shouted as they dodged another nasty curse. Harry slashed the wand he was using violently in the air and heard one of their attackers go down. Another curse flew by them, catching the edge of Draco’s arm and he cried out. “If we make it out of this I will kill you for letting us get kidnapped.”

 

“Yeah?” Harry answered, out of breath and running on adrenaline. He chanced a glance back over his shoulder and his heart clenched in his chest at the sight of Draco. “Well, if we make it out of this I intend to marry you, so hold off on killing me until after that, if you would.”

 

“What?!” Draco spluttered just as the wall beside them was blasted to rubble and knocked Draco unconscious. Harry flung himself down on top of Draco with a strangled cry just as Ron and the other Aurors working the case showed up and had their attackers subdued.

 

“Healer! We need to get him to a Healer – St. Mungo’s, quick!” Harry was shouting at his colleagues.

 

Draco ended up with a concussion and minor short-term memory loss and had no memory of Harry’s second proposal to him.

 

*******

 

The next time it happened it was shouted with exasperation and anger. It was six months after the kidnapping incident and Draco still didn’t remember what Harry had said to him. He’d tucked it away in the back of his heart and their lives went on together. They’d settled on a flat that they both loved with lots of windows and a cozy kitchenette that they both liked to cook in. Harry would make Sunday fry-ups and hearty dinners while Draco mastered toast and tea and would experiment with soups and stews after Harry went over the basics of cooking with him and Draco equated them to Potions. Harry loved watching Draco when he was cooking – _experimenting, Potter,_ Draco would remind him sharply. He loved watching Draco’s deft fingers chopping vegetables and tossing in spices, and he loved watching Draco’s eyelashes as his eyes fluttered closed when he sniffed at his recipes, tasting them as he went along.

 

Their morning routine remained the same – Draco would wake Harry up with coffee and the Quidditch section of the Prophet, and he would have a cup of tea and read the society and lifestyle pages stubbornly hidden behind the finance pages. The only difference in their routine was that instead of sitting by the fire they stayed curled up together in bed with their legs tangled together with the sheets. Draco would lean against Harry’s shoulder and sometimes he would steal Harry’s glasses to read the fine print. Harry loved it when Draco would gasp and tilt his head back and regale Harry with dramatic tales of what scandal was unfolding in the wizarding world. Harry wouldn’t even tease him that he thought he’d been reading about the finances because the first few times he’d suggested such a thing he’d received a mild stinging hex and a scoff about the _pretense of the thing_. The other addition to their morning routine was that Harry would wake up to Draco’s kisses along his jaw that trailed along until his tongue would tease at the sensitive spot under Harry’s ear that drove him wild. When Draco flicked his tongue and then nipped at that spot Harry would let out a playful growl and flip them both over so that he was covering Draco’s body with his, their hips coming together and sending spikes of pleasure up his spine. Harry would latch his mouth onto Draco’s neck and suck and nip and lick at his throat until Draco was a bucking and writhing mess under him, fingers clawing at him and fevered whispers of _please, yes, need you now_ were breathed hotly into his ear. When Harry finally pressed into him inch by inch they’d both seize up and take a deep breath, just holding each other, until Harry would move and by the time they were finished they’d be a sweaty mess with limbs half wrapped up in their sheets.

 

Their pub nights with their friends continued on, and Ron and Hermione announced that they were engaged. Their friends all cheered and just like when Harry and Draco had gotten together there was a round of jokingly muttered “ _Bloody finally!”_ and “ _Thought you’d never work up the bollocks, Weasley.”_

 

When Molly had an engagement party for Ron and Hermione she insisted that Harry bring Draco along, assuring him that Draco was welcome as part of the family. _Besides_ , she’d said, _I want to meet this young man of yours, Harry._ Draco had been a nervous wreck and insisted three separate times that Harry should just go on without him, that he’d be better off staying home. Harry assured him, several times that everything would be completely fine.

 

As it turned out, everything was not completely fine. Well, Harry’d thought everything at the simple garden party at the Burrow had gone fine, until they’d gotten home and Draco had been spitting mad at him. Harry had been catching up with Ginny, who was freshly home for the off-season from the Harpies, and Molly had made an off-hand comment about always thinking Harry and Ginny would end up together after Hogwarts after she’d had one too many sherries and noticed Harry and Ginny standing close together. Harry had laughed it off, but when he caught Draco’s eye across the room he caught his breath at the jealousy he saw plain as day all over his face. They’d left directly after and Draco had slammed the bedroom door closed behind him.

 

“Draco?” Harry asked with his forehead pressed into the cool wood. He knocked on the door. He knew he could easily get in the room, but he didn’t want to make Draco even more pissed off. “Draco, come on, what’s wrong? I thought we were having a good time?”

 

The door was pulled open so quickly that Harry stumbled forward into Draco, who gripped him roughly by the shoulders.

 

“A good time? _A. Good. Time_?” Draco seethed. Harry bit his lip and tried to look apologetic and not a little bit turned on. Draco didn’t even notice and continued his tirade. “ _Potter_ , I just spent the entire evening in my own personal hell, surrounded by people my family has hated for years, and to top it all off the mother figure in your life welcomed me into her home with open arms – but then proceeded to blither on about the good ol’ times when she hoped that you might make yourself an official member of their family and marry her daughter and pop out 2.5 grandchildren for her.”

 

“Hey, _hey_ ,” Harry said, beginning to feel the tingling of anger tightening his muscles. He scowled at Draco and tried to shake him off. Draco shook him once and glared back at him. “Don’t,” he said fiercely, struggling to maintain his composure and not resort to shouting back at Draco. “Please, just – don’t. Don’t talk about her like that.”

 

Draco snarled once and let Harry go to step back into the room. Harry caught the brief flash of pain – betrayal – in Draco’s eyes as he gripped the door to slam it in Harry’s face again. Harry quickly stuck out his foot and got his body wedged between the door and the doorframe. Draco made a desperate, strangled sound and quickly gave up trying to crush the door _through_ Harry. He retreated into the shadows in their bedroom and began yanking off his tie and roughly pulling at the buttons on his waistcoat. Harry tentatively walked up behind him and put his hands on his shoulders.

 

“C’mon, don’t be like that – they like you and they want you to feel welcome in the family too, because you’re with me,” Harry said, hoping the words would soothe Draco. Draco’s shoulders tensed and he angled his head back towards Harry, eyeing him out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Right. _Right_ ,” Draco said tightly. “Look, Potter, if Molly Weasley is still holding onto the hope that you’ll get over your bad boy dalliance phase with me and eventually return to being the doting would-be son in law she wants you to be, then maybe we should face that reality sooner rather than later. I won’t ever be a part of your family and I can’t give you the kind of family I know you want.”

 

Harry stood stock still, his heart squeezing painfully at the words tumbling out of Draco’s mouth. “You – what – _what –_ “

 

“We both know this isn’t going anywhere,” Draco said bitterly and yanked open one of the wardrobe doors and started viciously removing his cloths. And then Harry was livid.

 

“What the _bloody fuck_ do you think your doing?!” Harry shouted. Draco rounded on him, seething, but Harry could still see the cracks in his anger – see the pain easily in his eyes.

 

“I’m _saving myself_ from having to deal with the train wreck that is _you_ and saving myself the wasted time of you eventually returning to marry perfect little Weaselette!” He shouted.

 

“Why _the fuck_ – “ Harry’s vision was going red he was so mad. Draco couldn’t leave him, he _couldn’t._ He was desperate to make him understand. “Look, you crazy bastard, Ginny is great – she’s my friend, but that’s –“

 

“Why don’t you just go and marry the bint already then?!” Draco cried angrily. And Harry had fucking had it. He took two strides forward and grabbed Draco roughly by the shoulders, squeezing hard to get his full attention.

 

“Because I don’t want her, I want you!” He grit out through his teeth. Draco opened his mouth, likely with another delusional retort, and stood still as Harry’s words reached his ears. He stared at Harry with wide eyes.

 

“Why?” He asked quietly.

 

“Because I’m bloody in love with _you_ and I want to spend my life with _you_ , you great idiot!”

 

Silence.

 

“Well. Good,” Draco said, losing all of his typical eloquence and wit.

 

It was the first time Harry had told Draco that he loved him.

 

Harry pulled him into a kiss to shut him up when Draco had opened his mouth again. He slowly unclenched his fingers from Draco’s shoulders, rubbing the muscles he’d gripped in a desperate attempt to hold onto him. Without breaking the kiss Harry pulled him back to the bed and laid him out, paying special attention to each of Draco’s sensitive spots to show him just _how much_ he loved him. He drank in Draco’s stare as he straddled him and slowly sank down onto his cock. He swallowed the reverent gasps Draco made as Harry rode him slowly until they were both quivering and shaking with sweat and the aftershocks of their orgasms, whispering their love for each other.

 

*******

 

The fourth time Harry tried he’d planned a surprise proposal, but it all went horribly wrong. Their two-year anniversary was coming up and they’d been talking on and off about getting a pet. Harry was struck with the idea in the middle of his lunch break with Hermione and he’d gone straight to a muggle pet shop that was close to the Ministry after work, shrinking his Auror robes and sticking them in his suit pocket. He’d told himself he was just going to browse and that he and Draco should pick it out together. But then he’d seen the small ball of fluff in the kitten pen and his heart had melted. He dug in his trouser pockets to see if he’d brought enough muggle pounds with him. His eye caught on a shiny, metallic silver collar that was dainty enough to fit around the small kitten’s neck and grinned to himself.

 

When he arrived back at home with the kitten with a tag on the collar that said “ _Marry Me?”_ he eagerly drew Draco into a kiss and pushed him down onto the couch. He pulled the kitten out from behind his back and presenting the little puff of fur proudly.

 

He was surprised when he was met with Draco’s delighted laughter. Draco had taken the kitten from him and was admiring the collar when his eye had caught the tag.

 

“I can’t marry the cat, Potter,” he joked, elbowing Harry in the side when Harry slowly sank down next to him.

 

Harry was just about to open up his mouth to interject and set Draco straight – heart in his throat because he’d thought for sure he’d gotten it right this time and, god, he just wanted to marry the bastard already – when Draco let out a yelp. The kitten had scratched Draco and leapt from his hands. The little fur ball knocked over an antique vase that Draco had received as a gift from his mother that they kept behind the couch – which fell to the floor and shattered – and with a great leap from the table behind the couch to the window it climbed the expensive drapes Draco had picked out.

 

Harry sprang into action, whipping out his wand and prying the hand Draco was clutching to his chest towards him long enough to murmur a quick healing charm before he jumped up to lure the kitten down from where it had gotten stuck in the drapes. Harry was exasperated and Draco was muttering about what _foul little creature deigns to hurt me_ and _why didn’t you just go get a kneazle, Harry?_ and laughing at Harry’s attempts to persuade the kitten down.

 

“Are you a wizard, or what? There’s a joke in here somewhere about your hero complex and saving kittens from trees,” Draco teased and elbowed him out of the way. With a precise flick of Draco’s wand the small kitten was levitated into the air, claws still clutching desperately into the drapes that were being pulled along with it and caterwauling all the way. Draco let out an annoyed huff and twirled his wand until the kitten fell limp, dangling where it was levitated into the air.

 

“What did you do to it?!” Harry cried out, reaching forward and raising his hands to cup it as Draco levitated its little body down. Harry cradled the kitten to his chest and stroked it.

 

“Relax, Harry, it’s just a very mild stunner. I couldn’t have it tearing up my drapes any further,” he answered and with another twitch of his wand the drapes were repaired. “Now, lets see this little beasty you’ve brought me, shall we?”

 

Draco scooped the kitten out of Harry’s hands a second time and held it up for inspection. It looked rather drowsy and dazed and its little head fell against Draco’s chest when he cradled it easily. Draco made the little pleased humming sound that Harry loved and ran his fingertips along the kitten’s soft fur.

 

“Do you like her?” Harry asked hopefully. Draco turned to him and stared at his earnest expression for several heartbeats before a fond smile curved along his lips.

 

“I do,” Draco said. Draco looked back down at the kitten and slowly walked away towards their bedroom, murmuring quietly to the little lump of fur in his hands. When Harry went in later to undress for bed he found them both curled up in the middle of the bed, fast asleep with the kitten nestled in the crook of Draco’s arm that was draped protectively around her.

 

He realized later he hadn’t even thought to get Draco a ring yet.

 

*******

 

The fifth time it happened Draco tried to propose to him in the middle of Harry’s proposal, much to Harry’s dismay. After the kitten incident on their two-year anniversary Harry had taken Andromeda with him to help him pick out a ring. They’d looked at several options and then decided on the first one Harry had fallen in love with, a simple platinum band with a rose gold inlay. Harry had been taken with it immediately, he felt like it represented the two of them perfectly and his breath had caught in his throat when he’d seen it.

 

He waffled back and forth between carrying it around with him and hiding it at home – he’d felt like Draco would just know, either way, that he’d see it written all over Harry’s face. He always had a way of knowing. Except, when it came to hearing any of Harry’s proposals to marry him. When Harry did carry it with him the ring burned a hole in his trouser pocket. When he kept it at home his mind was on it all day while he was at the Auror Department. He’d taken to stealthily moving its location over and over again in their home, at Ron and Blaise’s suggestion, so that Draco wouldn’t find it. Blaise had regaled Harry with the story of how Pansy had found her engagement ring from Terry Boot almost immediately when Draco was up at the bar getting a round of drinks at one of their Friday pub nights. Harry had clutched at his pocket and Blaise smirked at him knowingly.

 

Harry agonized over when the right time to whip out the ring and ask Draco was, and now that he had the ring he would find himself fingering his pocket, damn near ready to open his mouth, only to have the moment flit away and he’d lose his opportunity. Harry wanted it to be so _perfect_.

 

He ended up waiting almost eight months after he’d purchased the ring and he was determined to not let another minute go by. He’d orchestrated for Draco and him to take a day off from work at the Ministry so that they could spend the day together. Draco had been working on an exceedingly taxing client’s case at work in the barristers’ offices and Harry had just gotten home recently from fieldwork on the continent and he’d missed Draco terribly. He’d even missed their monstrous cat, Bête, who was Draco’s partner in crime. They’d grown to be thick as thieves and loved each other, despite their rocky start. Draco agreed readily to the time off and they’d spent a glorious morning in bed together, slowly devouring each other, and then Harry packed them a picnic lunch. Harry’d arranged for them to portkey to a little island off of the South of France for the afternoon as a surprise, where they’d spread out their lunch and made love in the shade on a deserted white sand beach and swam together and picked out seashells to take home with them. Draco had been giving him intense, lingering looks all day. It was the most perfect afternoon and Harry wanted to propose right there on that beach. But he’d forgotten the ring at home. He sighed and smiled to himself as he pushed a lock of hair out of Draco’s eyes while he napped, he’d do it as soon as they were home.

 

When they had arrived home from their international portkey Draco gave him a long, slow kiss and Harry asked him to go sit on the couch while he made them a drink. He took a quick detour through the kitchenette to retrieve the ring from that week’s hiding spot and made them both a tumbler of scotch. Harry returned to Draco with a thousand watt smile as he handed over one of the glasses. He set aside his own drink and was just about to drop to one knee and pop the question – _again_ – when Draco downed his drink in one and fidgeted nervously. Harry kneeled down in front of him.

 

“Draco – “

 

“Harry, I’ve been wanting to ask you, for a while now actually, but today especially, since we had such a nice time, and I, god I’m messing this up like I knew I would, I just - will you do me the honor – “

 

“Could it wait just a moment, it’s just there’s something – “

 

They both paused and laughed together. Draco held out a hand and gestured for Harry to continue.

 

“Draco,” Harry started and took a shaky breath. “I love you so much.” He sat up on one knee and inched his hand towards his pocket, where the ring was surely burning a hole through it by now. He watched Draco’s eyes flicker down to where his hand was heading. He opened his mouth to continue, to ask the question he’d been trying to ask for so long, for _years_ really only to be interrupted by the simultaneous sounds of an owl tapping at the window and the Floo flaring to life and the sound of Pansy’s voice talking a mile a minute already. Harry’s heart sank and he let out a tired sigh.

 

“Draco, darling, I need you _immediately_ , there is an all out crisis happening,” she said as her high heeled shoes clacked into the sitting room. Harry leaned his head forward and buried his head into Draco’s lap for a brief moment, smiling when he felt Draco’s hands automatically run through his hair briefly, before he hauled himself up and went to open the window to let in the owl.

 

The owl turned out to be a Ministry owl that Ron had sent, calling Harry in on urgent Auror business for a high-profile new case. Harry sighed again and silently cursed at how the evening had turned out. The day had been so perfect. He feared for a fleeting moment that he’d never find another perfect day to propose to Draco.

 

“It’s from Ron, urgent new case at the Department. Why don’t you and Pansy go out to that new Italian place for dinner and I’ll meet you back here when I can,” Harry said as he dropped a kiss on Draco’s head. Draco frowned, but nodded and shoed Harry away.

 

Harry was immediately sent back out into the field for a semi-long term undercover mission with limited civilian contact and his heart ached to be home with Draco and Bête.

 

*******

 

The time that Harry finally got it right the moment hadn’t been perfect or an elaborate surprise or a heartfelt declaration in the face of impossible circumstances, but he found that it didn’t need to be any of those things. Not for them, not when just finding each other after a war and overcoming their pain and loss and scars – both physical and emotional – was a wonderful enough impossible circumstance. Hell, Harry considered it a right goddamn miracle.

 

It was just one month before their three-year anniversary and Harry had been spending a lot of time daydreaming about their brilliant afternoon in France. He was no longer bitter at Pansy or the Ministry for interrupting, a grudge he’d only held fleetingly on difficult days during his undercover assignment for the case. He’d written Draco letters that he poured his heart and soul into, reminding him in every one just how much he was in love with him. Draco’s letters back were less flowery than Harry’s. There were lines in Draco’s letters that teased him for _not almost being sorted into Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin_ , but they were just as sweet in Draco’s own way of quietly, fiercely loving him back. Harry had been undercover for two and a half months and when he finally returned home he knew he had to try again as soon as he could get Draco alone. He’d taken to carrying the ring in his pocket again.

 

When Harry decided the moment was right it was just after Draco had finished making a stew that took him two days to _experiment_ on and they’d curled up on the floor in front of the fire in their sitting room to eat it, much to Draco’s dismay. He’d only protested for a moment before Harry tugged on his hand and arranged him in the circle of Harry’s legs. Their little beast of a cat had curled up against Harry’s thigh and was purring like a little miniature motor. Harry was warm and full and at peace with where his life had ended up. He caught his breath and slipped his fingers into his pocket and pulled out the ring and wrapped his arms around Draco tightly.

 

“Draco, there’s something I’ve been trying to ask you since we’ve been together and I’ve messed it up a few times in the past trying to make it special and perfect for you,” Harry said, nuzzling against the juncture of Draco’s neck. Draco leaned back into him and hummed. “I realized that it doesn’t matter if I make it special and that there’s never going to be the perfect time to try to ask you this, but now seems like a pretty good time. All that matters to me is that you know that I love you and that I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Marry me?” he asked and held up the platinum ring with the rose gold inlay that represented the two of them perfectly in Harry’s head in front of Draco.

 

Draco gasped and turned his head in profile to nuzzle against Harry. He let out a wet-sounding laugh and turned in Harry’s arms so that he could tackle Harry to the floor and straddle him.

 

“Yes. _Yes_ , you silly sod!” Draco said with another breathless laugh and he leaned down to kiss Harry. Harry sat up on his elbows and slipped the ring onto Draco’s third finger, his fingertips trailing over the band and along Draco’s palm. Draco was turning his hand back and forth in the firelight, admiring the glint of the flickering flames against the ring. His smile was glorious and so bright and happy and Harry fell a little more in love with him, as he always did when Draco was happy.

 

“I almost thought you’d never manage to properly ask me,” Draco said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Harry smiled wryly and pulled him down into another kiss, muttering _not for lack of bloody trying_ between kisses against Draco’s lips.

 

And just like when they’d started dating their friends and family met their announcement with a chorus of _Finally_.

 

At first Draco had wanted to plan a big wedding fit for the society gossip pages he secretly – not-so-secretly – adored, but when Harry told him that he didn’t care about linens or the china or the music, as long as he didn’t have to wait another minute to be married to him Draco had looked at him, his eyes roaming over Harry’s face, and decided that they would make an appointment at the Ministry Courtroom for Marriages, Bonds, and Unity Ceremonies for the following week.

 

They’d promptly tied the knot with a matching platinum and gold inlay band for Harry and the Weasleys hosted a small garden reception for them in the field behind the Burrow. There’d been music and dancing and cheer all around at the celebration where they were surrounded by all of their friends and family. They’d laughed and danced together and under the bright star-lit night sky they sat curled up together in the field, hand in hand, watching as the festivities continued under the brightly lit tent.

 

“Mr. Potter,” Draco teased and leaned in to lay his head down on Harry’s shoulder. Harry grinned and dropped a kiss on his head.

 

“That’s Mr. Potter-Malfoy to you, Mr. Malfoy-Potter,” he replied with a deep laugh and Draco grinned up at him like he was a revelation. Harry had never been so happy and in love in his life.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Bête is French for Beast, according to the Google bot.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [5 Times Harry Tried to Propose (and The Time They Get it Right)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645266) by [alienlover13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienlover13/pseuds/alienlover13)




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